“Emily. Wait.”
By then, I was tired of it.
“Professor, if there’s a problem with my grade, you can just tell me.”
He looked at the clock.
“No. This isn’t about your grade.”
Then he walked toward the door.
And closed it.
I heard the lock click.
My heart began pounding.
He returned to his desk, placed both hands on its edge, and said,
“Don’t tell anyone what’s about to happen.”
I took a step backward.
“What are you talking about?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he took out his phone and sent someone a message.
“She’s here,” he said quietly.
I tightened my grip on my bag, ready to leave.
“I’m going.”
“Emily, please. Just give me five minutes.”
“Open the door.” What happened next read in the comments ‼️👇‼️👇
He opened it immediately.
That calmed me a little, but I was still ready to walk out.
Then I heard footsteps in the hallway.
Someone was coming toward the room.
I looked back at Professor Hayes.
He seemed nervous.
It was the first time I had ever seen him like that.
The door opened.
A woman in her early sixties stepped inside carrying an old brown box.
The moment she saw me, she froze.
Then she covered her mouth with one hand.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You look exactly like her.”
I stared at her.
“Like who?”
Professor Hayes slowly sat down.
“Your mother.”
Everything inside me stopped.
My mother had died when I was five years old.
My father almost never spoke about her college years.
“You knew my mother?”
The woman stepped closer.
“I was her best friend.”
I looked at Professor Hayes.
He spoke softly.
“And I was her professor.”
I had no idea what to think.
The woman placed the box on the desk.
My name was written across the top.
EMILY.
“What is this?”
Professor Hayes took a deep breath.
“Your mother was very sick. She knew she might not live long enough to watch you grow up.”
I slowly placed my hand on the box.
